


Price of Freedom

by MidgetBanana



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, More tags to be added, Slow Burn, also mentions of torture and rape, basically the inquisitor is a ball of hate, brief mentions of Dorian Pavus/Male Trevelyan, brief mentions of Iron Bull/Male Trevelyan, some ptsd on both sides, veeeeeeeeeery slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-04-05 17:35:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4188780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidgetBanana/pseuds/MidgetBanana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inquisitor Trevelyan was a rebel mage who spent his life fighting for mage rights. When circles rebelled, he was assigned by First-Enchanter of Markham's Circle as second in command, who had been commanding the bulk of mage rebellion in Free Marches. After fighting with templars for so long, prejudices are hard to let go, to say the least. But a man comes and turns his life upside down.</p><p>Your classic mage/templar love story</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ahahahahahaha sorry i'm dumping this here

They lost contact with three hideouts in a week.

Then the templars came. They lied. They always lie. There was a blast, fire... The boy shouted his name--

* * *

In his mind was a mist, voices calling and pulling him through barely enough to see through.

“Who are you?” he heard a woman’s voice. “Robin.” he answered, but to his lips came another name. He knew the name but it no longer belonged to him. Robin was who he had been.

His head hurt. His muscles ache for being unused for too long, but he couldn’t, he couldn’t will his body to move, to stay conscious.

His hand felt heavy. Full with power unbound from the magic lied in his blood. He could feel it’s strings untangling in his mind. Not unlike learning a new school but more alien, more… unnatural.

When he came to, he was clapped in irons. In a cell, alone. His head felt hot. He checked his binding, he could probably melt them off, maybe bend them enough to break. It would cause some serious damage to his wrists, third degree burns at best, but he had risked far more for far less gain. He scanned the room for any signs of an exit, it was too dark to be sure, he gathered he was placed facing the door but there were no guards to be seen. Was he left here to rot? For what purpose? Was he forgotten? It looked like a chantry prison, but again, he had never been to a non-chantry prison… He didn’t recall being captured by templars. So, the conclave was a smoke screen, then? Figures. He believed the Divine, he believed the leader of the faithful, messenger of the Maker would put an end to this war. He should’ve known better. These chantry folks were all the same, treacherous to their very bones.

The wood creaked and hit the stone as two guards enter, their armours were carrying chantry insignia but not the templar’s. Two women followed. One of them stood at the shadows but the other came forth, ah, now that was a templar. A recruit, maybe, she didn’t smell lyrium, but her posture was unquestionable. She stiffened and walked around him.

“Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now.”

This game was pointless. They would not get anything out of him, he had no information. They should just kill him and be done with it.

“The conclave is destroyed, everyone who attended is dead…” she continued “except for you.”

So he was the loose end, one mage who got away.

Annoyed by his silence she grabbed him by the wrist “Explain this.”

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?”

“I don’t know what that is, or how it got there.” he didn’t hide the irritation at his voice.

“You’re lying!” woman shouted and shoved him to the ground. Now that was more like the interrogations he was accustomed to.

The other women interfered to pull her away, when she came to light Robin saw her features were almost soft. “We need him, Cassandra.” she said.

“So what happens now?” he asked. He didn’t really care. If he were to be executed, it would be as good a way as any to go, albeit a little unceremonious.  

“Do you remember what happened, how this all began?” the redhead asked.

This interrogation was getting a little odd. They were looking for some information, but about what, he didn’t know. It clearly had something to do with that thing on his hand. It felt powerful although not the destructive kind. Blood magic might’ve been at work… It felt unlikely that it was a result of blood magic... It was physically painful trying to remember “I remember running… Things… _templars_ were chasing me…”

“Templars? Were there any survivors?” warrior asked.

“Fuck, I don’t know… They were… faceless… I can’t fucking remember… they only had shapes. And then… a woman.”

That caught redhead’s interest, “A woman?”

“She reached out to me, but then…”

“Go to the forward camp Leliana.” warrior said “I will take him to the rift.”

“What _did_ happen?” he asked reluctantly.

“It will be easier to show you” she answered briefly before hauling him up.

He followed the warrior outside, nothing she could’ve said would’ve prepared him to a fucking hole in the sky.

“We call it ‘The Breach’. It is a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour. It’s not the only such rift. Just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the conclave.” she tried to explain.

“Call it whatever the fuck you want! A giant fucking hole is what it is!” he jumped on his feet “What happened? What could possibly have happened to cause _that?_ ” he waved his bound arms to the sky.

Their chat was brief. Apparently, no one knew what was going on. No one else survived. He tried to look into his heart to find any remnant of grief for the few friends he had lost. He couldn’t. He felt tired. He couldn’t feel concerned for how everyone tried to pin the Divine’s death on him. His, and everyone else's, immediate goal was to patch up the giant green hole. They said he could do it, somehow.

She was, of course, reluctant to let him fight. He didn’t blame her. But the fact stood that they needed each other, and he would sooner die than to take a step back. Of course the conversation went somehow unpleasant when he kindly informed the warrior that if she believed he had to stay on a leash for her to feel safe and sound in the middle of a fight with demons falling from the sky, she could stick this circle issued staff up her ass.

The bald elf was odd, but he was a fellow mage and an apostate and he stood by him so he was alright, for now. Plus he was seemingly the only one who knew anything about that magical fade crap on his hand. The dwarf was a surprise. Varric Tethras, a renown author of every bit of soft porn young apprentices used to whisper behind the doors.

Robin had only read The Tale of The Champion. It was enthralling, he had thought of all the times he spent in solitary confinement, thinking he was alone… Every time he had taken in, they had told him he was the only idiot taking some sick pleasure from failing a fool’s errand, after a while he had started to believe. That mage… Anders… How many more were like him, like Robin, he never knew until he broke free. He owed that all to one abomination. He was a hero, undoubtedly.

Regardless, they didn’t stand around to discuss Varric’s literature. He learned the woman, Cassandra, was a Seeker. He read a little about their order, they were suppose to put a leash on the templars. Funny how things worked out. She fought more defensive than he was accustomed to seeing on templars. But he would be lying if he said her difference didn’t make it a little easier for him.

He also had the pleasure of meeting a lovely Chancellor. Roderick was his name. He never before met someone who had been the embodiment of every swear word he knew.

When it came to making a decision, he chose the more direct action. The man he used to be would do anything to save soldiers that were lost on the mountain path, but he didn’t know this people, he didn’t care to. He owed them no loyalty.

It was at the ruins he saw the only templar fighting so far.  A young man with blond hair and hazel brown eyes. He wasn’t wearing the armour but the stench of lyrium and his posture altogether spoke for itself.

“Lady Cassandra, you managed to close the rift? Well done.”

To Robin’s surprise, the templar had a surprisingly soft voice. Even in the heat of battle.

“Do not congratulate me, Commander. This was the prisoner’s doing.”

Commander… as in _Knight-Commander_? Or was it a military title? Nevertheless he despised how the seeker forced a templar’s, possibly the highest ranking templar’s, attention on him.

“Is it? I hope they’re right about you. We lost a lot of good people getting you here.”

He straightened his back and tightened his grasp on the staff. He would not appear weak now. He had bantered only briefly with templars before, their recent encounters had been rather more violent but now was not the time to succumb to those instincts. “You’ll lose a hell lot more if I don’t get to that fade crack.”

To that the commander’s response was an approving nod before turning back to the seeker “The way to the temple should be clear. Leliana will try to meet you there.”

They followed the path to a rubble full of disturbing amounts of unhealthy looking lyrium, where the breach lied. Veil was almost nonexistent, he could almost reach out and pull the strings to break it free, the past bled to the present and they hear a voice ordering his death, they heard the divine.

They fought a pride demon. Nasty piece of work, they were.

Sealing the breach took a lot more than he anticipated. He felt his power getting absorbed uncontrollably, he must’ve knocked out at some point because the last thing he knew was the mark thrumming with power before he opened his eyes in a hut.


	2. Chapter 2

The elven girl who accidentally woke him was too worked up to give any useful information. She bowed. She actually _bowed_ to him. Something started to seem a bit off. He could hear the commotion going outside. An angry mob, no doubt. Here to throw rocks at him, or to bring him to the gallows?

He was stripped off of his clothes save his pants. The remaining of his possessions were laid out on a table next to the fireplace to dry off.

He slid into the leather boots, left the chainmail and pauldrons but pulled his blouse over, it wasn’t anywhere thick enough for this kind of weather but he was too lazy to dress up entirely. He grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around himself, took the staff, just to be safe, before stepping out.

The crowd was… not violent. They were excited. He kept hearing this talk about a herald, andraste and other religious gibberish. He couldn’t tell if they were surprised by his fashion sense or staff.

A chancellor was accompanying the seeker when Robin crashed a rather heated argument.

“Chain him. I want him prepared for travel to the capital for trial.” he ordered immediately.

Mage spared a look to the templars approaching before radiating just a little magic to make his threat clear “Touch me, and lose the hand.”

“Disregard that, and leave us.” the Seeker stepped in.

“You walk a dangerous line, Seeker”

“Not as much as you do, _Chancellor_.” Robin answered before Seeker had the chance.

“You are threatening _me_ , mage? Do you know who I am?”

Robin moved his hand to the staff, just for show  “Someone who should consider their stance, _now_.”

“Enough!” Seeker’s voice echoed in the stone walls “The Breach is stable but it is still a threat. I will not ignore it.”

“I did everything I could to close the damn thing. It almost killed me.”

“Yet you live. A convenient result, insofar as you’re concerned.”

Seeker acted before he had a chance at a comeback, probably for the best, he didn’t knew where he stood “Have a care, Chancellor. The Breach is not the only threat we face.”

The redhead, who had been conveniently silent so far, took this chance to step in “Someone was behind the explosion at the Conclave. Someone the most holy did not expect. Perhaps they died with the others--or they have allies who yet live.”

Chancellor, shocked by the accusations stumbled on his words “ _I_ am a suspect?”

“You, and many others.” she sneered.

“But _not_ the prisoner?”

“I heard the voices in the temple. The Divine called to him for help.”

“So his survival, that _thing_ on his hand-- All a coincidence?”

“Providence, the Maker sent him to us in our darkest hour.”

“Wait wait… The Maker did what now?” the conversation turned from amusing to terrifying in milliseconds, this was getting out of hand. “Oh, you gotta be kidding me.”

“I have not forgotten what-- _who_ you are. I will not, however, pretend you were not exactly what we needed when we needed it.”

They all agreed, without Robin’s approval, that he was some kind of messenger from the Maker. He definitely heard no holy calling. And if the flashing green mark on his hand was an evidence for some sort of divine intervention, it clearly was not the good kind.

But the two women seemed hellbent on taking the matters in hand even if it meant putting Chantry against them. Robin had studied the first Inquisition, the Chantry approved version of course, there was some sort of chaos, mages running amok, murdering innocents etcetera etcetera, the usual tale, so a woman, supposedly sent by the Maker, rallied the folk to protect innocent.

Robin believed in Andraste, although he wasn’t particularly devout, he started praying after he rebelled. He thought… he needed to believe that he was walking in the way of light. He also believed Andraste was needed back in the days of old, to fight corrupt magic. He himself would and had take up arms against magic used for foul.

However his current position, persuaded to participate as an ally at the side of the predecessors of the Templar Order, really put his patience to the test. He had little choice but to believe his mark would keep him safe.

The Chancellor was shooed and women got to work, giving him time to change into his proper gear, “Lose the blanket” was the exact words of the Seeker, had it came from anyone else he would’ve made a lewd comment.

At his return Cassandra met him at the Chantry’s gates to lead him to the war council. It was still odd to be invited in a council of none mages, he absently wondered if he scared the people gathered around, he was, after all, an apostate mage. One who has confirmed to be working with one of the greatest leaders of the rebellion. His former circle was in rubles and he carved his path in blood to his freedom. His capabilities were unknown to much of them. His only safeguard was resting calmly on his palm. He brushed a finger through the line. It was still buzzing with bizarre magic but felt serene…

“Does it trouble you?” the Seeker asked

“Not as long as it keeps me safe.”

“You agreed to help willingly. You sealed The Breach almost with the cost of your life, people here believe in you. They will not turn on you.”

“I suppose the giant sky hole does prove as a distraction.” to that she chuckled and answer “We take our victories where we can. What’s important is that your mark is now stable, as is The Breach. You’ve given us time, and Solas believes a second attempt might succeed--provided the mark has more power. The same level of power used to open The Breach in the first place. That is not easy to come by.”

“You want to pour massive amount of power to this thing no one knows anything about? We barely understand it’s purpose. Are you-- are we prepared for the consequences?”

“And people call me a pessimist. We have some ideas...” she said gesturing towards the entrance.

“You’ve met Commander Cullen, leader of the Inquisition’s forces.” with his weapon sheathed, templar was less intimidating than he remembered.

“It was only a moment on the field. I’m pleased you survived.” what a joke, Robin though.

He now remembered where he recognized the name, he was Meredith’s second, everyone knew the Knight-Commander Meredith, he studied the events took place in Kirkwall’s gallows and had direct connection to the mage underground that later on became the uprising “Was your templar title get lost in the conclave as well, _Knight-Captain_?”

The fancy dressed woman gasped and the commander cleared his throat in discomfort “I left the order quite some time ago”

“This is Lady Josephine Montilyet, our ambassador and chief diplomat.” Cassandra rushed.

“I’ve heard much. It’s a pleasure to meet you at last.” and lastly she moved on to the redhead “And of course you know sister Leliana.”

“My position here involves a degree of--”

“She’s our spymaster.”

“Yes. Tactfully put, Cassandra.” she sighed.

Now that was over with, they had business to conclude “Cassandra says you’ve got something for me.”

“I mentioned your mark needs more power to close the breach for good.”

“Which means we must approach your fellow rebel mages for help.” Leliana suggested.

“I still disagree,” Commander cut in “The templars could serve just as well”

“I am yet to see them serve anyone but themselves.” Robin chuckled.

“They have always served the faithful, I am confident that they will see what must be done.”

“We need power, Commander.” Cassandra insisted “Enough magic poured into that mark--”

“Might destroy us all. Templars could suppress the The Breach, weaken it so--”

“Pure speculation.”

“ _I_ was a templar. I know what they’re capable of.”

“Commander’s right on that.” Robin said “But they would never follow a mage and I will not kiss their asses for their support. Unfortunately soon before the conclave, our contacts with mages at Redcliffe were severed. I have no insight whatsoever about their current situation.”

“The Chantry has denounced the Inquisition-- and you, specifically.” said the ambassador.

“Let me guess, I, a vicious apostate, blew up the divine, tore down the sky”

She looked down to the paper in her hand “That is not the entirety of it any longer. Some are calling you -a mage- the “Herald of Andraste”. That frightens the Chantry. The remaining clerics have declared it blasphemy, and we heretics for harboring you.”

“Chancellor Roderick’s doing, no doubt.” Cassandra growled

“This story never ends in mage sympathizer's favour, I can tell you as much.” Robin rubbed is temples “Your best option right now is to claim me as a prisoner. Use the ‘magic exists to serve’ card. You need me to close The Breach--”

“Would you have agreed to those terms?” Commander asked skeptically

“I have done many things I would not have agreed.”

“Even if the Chantry believed that, we would risk losing the religious mass flocking to our banners to follow the Herald of Andraste.” ambassador sighed.

“And what about this ‘Herald’ crap anyways?”

“People saw what you did at the temple, how you stopped the breach from growing. They have also heard about the woman seen in the rift when we first found you. They believe that was Andraste.”

“Even if we tried to stop that view from spreading--”

“Which we have not.”

“The point is, everyone is talking about you.”

“It’s quite the title, isn’t it? How do you feel about that?” Robin couldn’t tell if the commander was mocking or being genuinely curious, the latter seemed unlikely… And yet he was oddly fine with having a rebel mage around.

“Doesn’t matter.” he replied “So long as it can be used in our favour.”

“A practical attitude. Chantry, on the other hand, would disagree.”

“People are desperate for a sign of hope. For some, you are that sign.”

“And to others, a symbol of everything that’s gone wrong.” ambassador finished.

Robin breathed “Deja vu” that seemed to be a pattern with him “You should’ve gotten rid of me when you had the chance.”

“Let’s be honest: They would’ve censured us no matter what.” said the commander with an absurd certainty “And you not being here isn’t an option.” Cassandra added.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos or comments are always welcome!


	3. Chapter 3

Thus he was tasked to rescue a chantry mother, who had claimed to be sympathetic to their cause, despite all evidence that it was a trap. Leliana’s intel must’ve been trustworthy, she worked with the Divine, he tried to assure himself until he realised where it got her holiness. They needed power to approach mages or templars. Which was only slightly different from playing a mabari asserting its dominance. Pissing all over the place.

At some point that resemblance must’ve sounded funny to the dwarf cause he laughed for an extended period of time.

He had never been to Ferelden, south was less arid than he was used to. Scenery was pretty though, the hills and branches gave mages fighting here a clear advantage. The thick layer of bushes provided sufficient cover for glyphs on the ground and dampness of dirt was easier for ranged damagers like mages to fight.

Back in Ostwick… No, no use thinking about it now.

After sealing two rifts nearby, they moved on to the crossroads, supposedly where Mother Giselle was reported to be. Cassandra went ahead “Inquisition forces! They’re trying to protect the refugees!”

“Looks like they could use a hand!” Varric shouted, cocking his bow, namely Bianca.

Robin jump forth just in time to stop an arrow “Wait!” he shouted to the forces.

“Halt!” he appealed to the apostates currently gone mad with power “I am from Ostwick,  First-Enchanter Nasreen's second in command, state your outpost!”

There was a minute of questioning glances exchanged between rebels before one of them stepped forth “You’re long way from Free Marches, brother.” the young man said.

“I was ordered to attend to the Conclave.”

“Then you believed the same lies we did.”

Robin gestured to the refugees “Why are you terrorising this village?”

“They are templar sympathizers. Even you, your friend carries the mark of Seekers,” he snarled pointing at Cassandra “You are corrupt.”

“Don’t fight me, brother.” he warned, too late. He barely rebent a blast of fireball flashing to his face.

So much for compromise. It got easier when the templars came. Robin had been fighting them for quite some time to learn few tricks that’d turn the battle to their advantage. He wasn’t pleased that the mages couldn’t be saved but it was no use fretting over it.

Mother Giselle wished to speak to him in person. Her opinions of magic was surprisingly untraditional, she believed some of her folk could be swayed. As doubtful as he was, that seemed to be their only option for the moment.

They returned at downfall to give the news, it had been a long couple of days, Robin would want nothing more than to rest his head on those feather cushions, in his time fighting, he had missed the cozy mattresses of circle dearly. He gave up on those luxuries long ago. But since the inquisition provided him with a fairly more comfortable standards, he was inclined to take advantage.

But of course he was greeted with a commotion. Mages and templars were at eachothers throats, again.

“Your kind killed the most holy!” the templars accused, pointing at mages with their swords unsheathed.

“Lies!” shouted a mage “Your kind let her die!”

“Shut your mouth, mage!”

Cullen stepped in just then, to avoid bloodshed Robin assumed. In his experience putting templars with loose mages had never ended in anything good “Enough!” he yelled, still keeping his hand off his sword.

“Knight-Commander!”

“That is not my title. We are _not_ templars any longer. We are _all_ part of the Inquisition.”

A noble ideal, Robin thought, if not a little naïve…

“And what does that mean, exactly?” chancellor Roderick conveniently arrived

“Back again, Chancellor? Haven’t you done enough?”

“I’m curious, Commander, as to how your Inquisition and it’s ‘Herald’ will restore order as you promised.” he taunted, a poor attempt to rally the crowd. But the commander was losing patience “Of course, you are.”

“You have doubts, Chancellor? Perhaps they should be addressed to someone less docile.” Robin intervened.

“Take your threats elsewhere, mage. We know all about your kind.”

“Pray tell.” He slowly moved forth.

“Heretics,” he preached “murderers, who’d gone mad with power.”

Robin was so close to the Chancellor now that he could see the little twitch in his mouth when he uttered each word heavy with hate.

“When you say heretics and murderers who’d gone mad with power,” he looked down to meet the man’s eyes “I really can’t be sure which group you’re talking about. I see before me a man who refuses the late Divine’s initiative, who was willing to let our soldiers die just to return to Val Royeaux with an accused murderer just so he could get a voice in voting the next Divine.”

“I will see you in chains, Herald.” he whispered “Don’t _ever_ doubt that.”

“Back to your duties! All of you!” Commander dissolved the crowd.

“Mages and templars were already at war. Now they’re blaming each other for Divine’s death.”he said, to which Chancellor replied “Which is why we require a proper authority to guide them back to order.”

“Who, you? Random clerics who weren’t important enough to be at the Conclave?”

Who knew? The templar could bite.

“The rebel Inquisition and it’s so called ‘Herald of Andraste’? I think not.”

“If the _proper_ authority hadn’t completely failed, the Conclave wouldn’t have been needed.” Robin shot back.

“So you suggest I blame the Chantry and exalt a murderer? What of justice?”  

Robin hold back a laugher, barely. “That won’t help restore order in the here and now.” Cullen answered.

“Order will never be restored so long as this rebellion is allowed to fester.”

“Remind me why you’re allowing the Chancellor to stay?” he asked Cullen.

“Clearly your templar knows where to draw the line.” Chancellor respond instead. “He’s toothless” Cullen said “There’s no point turning him into a martyr simply because he runs at the mouth. The chancellor is a good indicator of what to expect in Val Royeaux, however.”

“How widespread is the violence between mages and templars?”

“You don’t know?”

“I know Free Marches.”

Crossroads were Robin’s first experience with rebels in Ferelden. The resistance here seemed unorganised. Where did those men got their orders? What evidence did they have to attack a village of civilians? It was clumsy. No wonder they didn’t achieve much.

“Impossible to say.” Cullen sighed.

Chancellor, who was skipping on his toes to jump at any chance to preach his propaganda cut in, again “Your organisation floating the Chantry’s authority will not help matters.”

They continued chatter consistently ignoring the man “With the Conclave destroyed, I imagine the war between mages and templars has renewed. With interest.”

“Mages won’t stop until they have their freedom.” Robin stated. They would, all of them, fight to the death if need be.

“Freedom?” Chancellor shook his head disapprovingly, as if they were talking blasphemy instead of basic rights “They’re already roaming the wilds like savages they are! They’d see us all join Tevinter!”

“How much blood had to be shed to water the earth we now can roam like savages, how much more until you realise we won’t back down. We’re talking about basic rights to exist and you retort with a civilization built on slavery.” he argued, unwillingly. It was a debate he had thousand times before.

“Exactly why all this should be left to the new Divine. If you’re innocent, the Chantry will establish it so.” so far the only thing Chantry established on mages favour was to be blown up by a mage, Robin idly thought. “Or will you be happy to use someone as a scapegoat?”

“You think nobody cares about the truth? We all grieve Justinia’s loss.”

“But you won’t grieve if the Herald of Andraste is conveniently swept under a carpet.” Cullen shot back.

As interesting as it was to listen a templar defending him, time was short “Well,” he said patting Cullen’s shoulder as he turned to get to Chantry “let’s hope we find solutions, and not a cathedral full of _chancellors_.”

“The stuff of nightmares.” Cullen followed suit.

“Mock if you will. I’m certain Maker is less amused.” Chancellor shouted after them.

“Maker can kiss my ass.” Robin murmured when they got out of earshot. He could swear he heard the Commander chuckle.

He briefed the council on Mother Giselle’s advice, though he definitely was not expecting to be sent on this errand personally. Josephine said, “Having the Herald address the clerics is not a terrible idea.” Yes, yes it was. It was absolutely the worst idea he could think of. And he was full of bad ideas.

“You can’t be serious.” You tell them, Cullen. Robin tried to communicate with his eyes.

“Mother Giselle isn’t wrong: at the moment. The Chantry’s only strength is that they are united in opinion.” Ambassador persisted.

“And we should ignore the danger to the Herald?” Cullen tried to reason “Oh, please, Commander. I’m a big boy, I can take care of myself. But I’m telling you now, I think it’s a lost cause.”

“I agree,” Commander shook his head “It just lend credence to the idea that we should care what the Chantry says.”

“I will go with him.” Cassandra said then turned to Leliana “Mother Giselle said she could provide us names? Use them.”

Leliana opposed, of course. but as Cassandra said, what choice did they have? Though for Robin, blowing up the entire Orlesian Empire was always an option. Maybe they’d get lucky and roast some chancellors and nobles as well. He bet the Commander would be thrilled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos and comments are always welcome!


	4. Chapter 4

When they set off for Val Royeaux, if the Seeker hadn’t set the bar pretty high on that front, Robin could actually kill people by staring. Two kinds of people he detested most, nobles and religionist, now were accompanied by templars. It was kind of the gentle people of Val Royeaux to tuck their tails and run at the sight of him. Or maybe it was just Cassandra they were afraid of.

A scout met them ahead to deliver the news of Lord-Seekers presence. It was their chance for an alliance. It all depended on Lord-Seekers stance. If he wanted blood, Robin would be happy to oblige. If he fell on his knees and maybe kiss Robin’s boots, he might consider having their help.

People had gathered to listen a couple of mothers yammering about blasphemous ‘Herald’ using his profane magic to turn South into the Imperium. Very original. Robin would even pretended to be annoyed if the templars hadn’t intervened.

The sounds came from the crowd were just delicious. It was certainly satisfying to watch. Would be even more satisfying to actually do but the templars beated him to it. “Nothing says ‘Templars’ like a good old barbarism.” He said as the Mother hit the ground.

“Your barbarism speaks for itself” the Lord-Seeker responded walking down the boulevard “Lord-Seeker Lucius,” Cassandra chased after him “It’s imperative that we speak with--”

“You will not address me.”

“Lord-Seeker?”

“Creating a heretic movement,” they halt “raising up a puppet as Andraste’s prophet. You should be ashamed. You should all be ashamed! The templars failed no one when they left the chantry to purge the mages like him! This apostate,” he briefly made a gesture towards Robin “is a mockery to their devotion! You are the ones who have failed! You who’d leash our righteous swords with doubt and fear! If you came to appeal to the Chantry, you are too late. The only destiny here that demands respect is mine”

“Typical” Robin groaned, rolling his eyes “When you’re called to fight actual evil magic, the first thing you do is whine and hide”

Cassandra cut in “This is your chance to prove the world what you have sworn to do! One of your own commands the Inquisition forces. Join us, as he did!”

“A staunch and loyal member of the Order. So loyal, he abandoned them for a false ‘Herald’.” Lord-Seeker scoffed.

Only one templar objected, but he was too persuaded after all, even if a little dubiously. He was a handsome fellow. Robin would be lying if he sad he wasn’t a little disappointed to watch him go. Selling an apostate mage as Andraste’s Herald to the templars was a hard bargain, to put it mildly. In the end, the templars did that they do best and bailed. Leaving Val Royeaux to it’s fate.

Val Royeaux proved to be more interesting than Robin anticipated. First they almost got shot by an arrow with an absurd message. Presumably instructions. Then a peculiar fellow chased after them to give a scrap of paper, seemed baffled by the little joke Robin cracked about thinking customs here were to sent them by archery. Then for some reason felt the need to clarify that it was indeed an invitation to something-important-Robin-didn’t-give-a-fuck-about from someone-important-Robin-didn’t-give-a-fuck-about. Their trip wasn't so fruitless after all.

Nevertheless, after recruiting a merchant lady and following red purse trails to a random hideout in Orlais, the biggest surprise at the day occurred at the Gates.

“If I might have a moment of your time?” the woman caught them before they took their leave.

“Grand-Enchanter Fiona?” Cassandra asked followed by the most obvious question from Solas “Leader of the mage rebellion. Is it not dangerous for you to be here?”

Robin had exchanged letters with the Grand-Enchanter, using the name of First-Enchanter Nasreen, when he had worked as her second. They had discussed strategies and exchanged illicit information about templar movement alongside political discussions on their standing. She was the one who persuaded them to attend to the Conclave, although it didn’t quite work out as any of them anticipated.

“Not any more than it is for him.” Grand-Enchanter said, tilting his head to Robin’s direction. “I heard of this gathering, and I wanted to see the fabled Herald of Andraste with my own eyes. If it’s help with the breach you seek, Lieutenant Trevelyan, maybe you should look among your fellow mages.”

“Prior to this moment, ‘my fellow mages’ seemed uninterested with any of our attempts at communication. We believed you dead, along with ‘my fellow mages’.”

“Yes,” Cassandra agreed “you were suppose to be, and yet you somehow avoided death.”

“As did the Lord-Seeker, you’ll note. Both of us sent negotiators in our stead, in case it was a trap.”

“Negotiators?” Robin spat “You mean mages like First-Enchanter and I.”

Fiona sighed “I won’t pretend I’m not glad to live. You and I both lost many dear friends that day. It disgusts me to think the templars will get away with it. I’m hoping _you_ won’t let them.”

“So you think the templars are responsible.” Cassandra pursued, Robin wasn’t sure about it himself, he didn’t doubt templars initiative, he just doubted their capabilities.

“Why wouldn’t she?” Solas asked.

“Lucius hardly seems broken up over his losses, if he’s concerned about them at all. You heard him. You think he wouldn’t happily kill the Divine to turn people against us? So, yes. I think he did it. More than I think you did it, at any rate.”

“That’s very kind of you to say, Grand-Enchanter but… Can you provide us with the power we need to close the Breach?”

“It is not safe for us to negotiate here, consider this your formal invitation to Redcliffe: Come, meet with the rest of the resistance. An alliance would help our people.” She took a bow, which Robin returned “I hope to see you there, au revoir, Lieutenant Trevelyan.”

After the convenient encounter with the women he indirectly took orders from for a year, they ended up recruiting two more people, somehow. The elf was odd but cute. Robin was glad he recruited her before attending the salon or he might’ve roasted the poor girl alive.

‘The Imperial Enchanter Vivienne de Fer’ was a complete and utter joke. Only, she was real. Which made it ultimately less funny. She was a noble, and like all the other noble pricks, she run at the mouth. They spent about two hours candy coating insults and hiding their mutual dislike with a smile. At least it was mutual. In the end Robin allowed her to join, only because they were desperate and she had a good sense of fashion. Maker knew they were in dire need of that.

When they finally got to Haven the others were already briefed.

“It’s good you’ve returned. We heard of your encounter.” Josephine greeted them in Chantry. “You heard?” Robin asked.

“My agents at the city sent word ahead, of course.” Leliana and Cullen joined them.

Cullen looked troubled, more troubled than he usually looked, which, Robin figured, was just his face “It’s a shame the templars have abandoned their senses as well as the capital.”

“You mean they have abandoned it just _now_?” Robin snort. He was trying to keep an open mind, he really was but… It was so hard to act objective when he was avoiding traps and trying to protect children from templars just a month ago.

“Lord-Seeker Lucius is not the man I remember.” said Cassandra with a note of confusion.

“True,” Leliana agreed “He has taken the Order somewhere, but to do what? My reports have been… very odd.”

“We must look into it. I’m certain not everyone in the Order will support the Lord-Seeker.” Cullen insisted. Robin was almost tempted to comply, just to have templars under his command… well, not _his_ per se but he still thought they would worship him or whatever they do when they’re not out butchering mages. But no… To work with templars… It’d be his very very last resort.

“Or I could simply go meet the Grand-Enchanter in Redcliffe.”

“You think the mage rebellion is more united?” Cullen asked. His underestimation was almost naïve enough to be overlooked.

“I know for a fact that it is.”

“It could be ten times worse!”

“We could at least find out what the mages want.” Josephine tried to reason, Cassandra’s answer was right, however disturbing the way she chose to express it was; “No doubt what they’ve always wanted: support for their cause.”

“And we can’t have that.” Robin crooked a brow.

“Mages are powerful,” Cassandra sighed “But more desperate than you chose to admit.”

“So it’ll be more dangerous than me, a rebel mage, walk into a templar enclave?”

“If some among the rebel mages are responsible for what happened at the Conclave…”

“The same could be said about the templars.”

“True enough…” Cullen spoke “For now we don’t have enough influence to approach either of them safely”

In conclusion, he had to run around doing errands to sway people in power.

After the discussion Leliana approached him to talk about a Warden. He agreed to help even though it sounded a bit like she was grasping at straws.

On her way out he also run into a dashing man representing a mercenary company. Run by a qunari.

So of course he was running to the Storm Coast to meet these qualified people as soon as possible.

And, oh man did it worth it. It had been sometime since he had a good fuck so he might be thinking with his lower half a little when recruiting the qunari spy but, wow. Just, _wow_. Those muscles were what dreams were made of. He was inclined to believe that the appreciation was mutual when he heard the man practically moaning the word ‘redheads’

Yes, he could provide him with all the red he ever needed.


	5. Chapter 5

Meanwhile Haven was getting more and more crowded. And not only soldiers or refugees, Robin caught Ambassador trying to reason with a noble cunt trying to lay claims on the bloody place. After that he decided to take time to run the battlements. He realized he never really chattered with Seeker, she had an interesting past. Robin would be lying if he said he wasn’t impressed. Both by her character and abilities. She was… not very good with compliments though.

He was a little reluctant to approach the Commander but since he was here, he might as well say hi or something. He never talked to the man before.

He was battering orders to the recruits, he seemed busy but indulged him nevertheless. “We’ve received a number of recruits--locals from haven and some pilgrims. None made quite the entrance you did.”

He didn’t know why but he felt the need to defend himself “It wasn’t by choice.” he said.

“I’d be concerned if it were.” the commander shrugged. He looked a bit uneasy when he started to talk again, averting his eyes “I was… I was there during the uprising--I saw firsthand the devastation it caused. Cassandra sought a solution. When she offered me a position, I left the Templars to join her cause.”

He then gazed at the breach and continued “Now it seems we face something far worse.”

“You left the Order for this, you believe this will help?” Robin questioned.

“I do. The Chantry has lost control of both templars and mages. Now they argue over a new Divine while the Breach remains. The Inquisition could act when the Chantry cannot. Our followers would be a part of that. There’s so much we can--” he must’ve seen Robin’s uneasiness, he cut short “Forgive me. I doubt you came here for a lecture.”

“Not really, no.” Robin shrugged “But we’re short on motives. It’s refreshing to see someone who doesn’t think we’re chasing our own tail.”

Cullen dazed for a moment. Clearly wasn’t the response he was expecting. He was too used to getting blown off by the mage that he couldn’t help when his lips curved into a smile. To which Robin returned. It was an awkward moment when neither of them knew what to say until a recruit came with some information to the commander. He abruptly cleaned his throat and said “There’s still a lot of work ahead.”

He took the paper from the recruit’s hand and left in a hurry.

Their second conversation was after Robin returned from Hinterlands with the Warden Blackwall. He had a brief chat with Bull and was walking to the gates when Cullen cought up to him. “You traveled some distance to reach Haven.” he said “You’re from the Circle in Ostwick?”

“Would you prefer I stayed locked away like a good mage?” Robin retort almost instinctively.

“I didn’t… I only--meant to make conversation” he babbled. “Poor choice of topic.” he then sighed “given our past.”

“I assume you already know what there is to know about me.” Robin said.

“Leliana briefed us about your… past. She gathered information on you when you were… unconscious.” he explained. “Although I would prefer to hear it from you.”

“I am a rebel mage, that is all there is to know, Commander.” Robin said.

“A noble rebel mage, so I heard, _Lord Trevelyan_ ” he corrected.

“Mages are not allowed to carry titles. Thank the Maker for small mercies.” Every time Robin made the commander smile, he felt kind of nervous. As though he was forcing it out of the man, like he was feeling the commander’s own embarrassment. Empathy was not the most healthy attribute for him to have towards a templar, he knew. But Cullen was calm and controlled for a templar. He shoved remarkable restraint so far.

“So where are you from? I heard about your role in Kirkwall but you sound Fereldan.” Robin changed the subject

“I grew up here,” he answered “near Honnleath. I was transferred to Kirkwall shortly after the blight. This is the first I’ve returned in almost ten years.”

“I bet you left it in better shape.”

“Hardly. I was not sorry to leave at that time. I did not expect to return. I left it in chaos and came back to find it in chaos.”

“You mean the Blight?” Robin asked “Templars were conscripted, right? Did you battle against the darkspawn?” he couldn’t help prying.

“No. I was stationed at Ferelden’s Circle Tower.”

“Nothing much to do there, I heard. What with all mages _annuled_ and all.”

That clearly touched a nerve. Commander was a reserved man, but even he couldn't help the tone his voice took when answering with irritation “You heard wrong. I would prefer not to speak of it.”

Thus was the rather abrupt end of their conversation.

Few days later Robin saw the Commander working on some troop movements before taking off for a supply run. It took some twenty hours. When he came back, the commander hadn’t moved an inch. Normally he wouldn’t be concerned for workaholics but he kind of felt guilty for their last talk. What -he heard- happened in the Ferelden’s Circle Tower was inhuman but that did not necessarily mean Cullen had a part in that. He must’ve been very young when it all happened.

So he found himself approaching the man. “You’re right where I left you almost a day ago.”

“May I help you.” he answered without pulling his head out of his work.

“I was meaning to apologize.” that was not the best way to go about it, surely “Last time we talked--”

“There’s no need.” Commander cut off

“No, there is.” Robin insisted “I was disrespectful. It is a force of habit, I don’t generally try to hold back but we are working together and I should at least try to be less of an ass.”

“Truce?” The Commander offered

“Truce.” he agreed.

“So… What was Kirkwall like?” he smirked

The commander told him about the Qunari invasion and political unrest and most importantly, the beginning of the civil war. He told him about Hawke, the templar who chose to aid mages with a last minute change of heart. He told him about Meredith’s fate and red lyrium… they talked for hours until he had to excuse himself to get some rest. For better or worse, Robin realized it was the first he talked with a templar this long as casual conversation.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry no cully-wully this chapter.

Some time later he decided he dallied long enough playing the tourist. He ordered word to be sent to the Redcliffe.

He took Sera, Varric and Bull. He knew it wasn’t the best tactic, bringing three ranged damagers but they seemed like the most neutral party. He was reluctant to prepare for a fight with his fellow rebel mages.

Blackwall would be a better choice, to be honest. But he reminded Robin of this one person he once slept with and it was weird. Of course he couldn’t’ve told him that so instead he made up a half-assed excuse which everyone assumed was a cover-up to spend some time alone with Bull.

On the road to Redcliffe, they found out some evidences pointing towards a Templar Encampment to the west and some apostates hiding in Witchwood. Dealing with Templars was easy, they had only one commanding officer that proved as a challenge.

He caught Bull looking at him, studying him in some intense way when they stopped to clean the blood of their weapons. “Like what you see?” he asked.

“M-hmm.” the man nodded before turning back to his weapon. He liked Bull’s gaze on him. He would like it even more if the man weren’t _actually_ studying him to send secret spy reports. But, well, every rose has it’s thorns. “You alienate templars when you fight.” Bull said.

“They alienate themselves.” he answered not really giving it much thought.

“We use the same tactic fighting vints,” he said “pumped with so much hate that--”

“ _Pumped_ ,” Robin pointed out, “is hardly the same as getting subjected to years of brutal oppression.”

Yes he alienated them. He thought of every way he could rip them apart when he had all the time in the world, staring to the empty walls of his cell. Templars helped, of course, they gave him all sorts of ideas. They taught him how to inflict just the right amount of pain to keep one conscious. What broke them mentally while keeping their body intact.

Thankfully, Bull dropped the subject. He didn’t really wanted to let slip one of his sadistic fantasies.

Witchwood was a disaster. He could only reason with a couple of mages. Rest were either too far gone or already turned to blood magic. He practically begged them to see reason, he told them he knew first hand the devastation blood magic caused. But it was damn near impossible to sway a blood mage. A boy, fifteen most, turned into an abomination right in front of their eyes.

Robin hated it. Robin hated seeing what he could become. He hated the demon pried that young boy’s soul away. It made him nauseous. When the battle ended, he burned the place to the ground. Another battalion of his people, lost to greed and fear.

Voyage to Redcliffe’s Gates was quiet with air heavy with anticipation. This was either going to be a damn fruitful alliance that could secure the mages’ well being or a massacre that’d doom all mages, including Robin himself.

The time-bending Rift at the gates was certainly not a good start either. It only got worse when the scout they had sent reported they were not expected. There were codes used for hostage situations. Robin kept his eyes open to catch one, to no avail. These mages weren’t soldiers, they were civilians. Either Fiona had lost her entire attack force and fortifications or this was a templar trap. He didn’t know what these mages faced after the Conclave.

A young elf caught them, Robin wasn’t wearing the warpaint anymore but he must’ve recognized him because he halted and took a clumsy bow before speaking; “Lieutenant Trevelyan? My--my apologies, sir! Magister Alexius is in charge now, but hasn’t yet arrived. He’s expected shortly.”

He tumbled on his words “You can speak with the former grand enchanter in the meantime.”

“ _Former?_ What the fuck?” Varric timely fake coughed to hide the f word. The young man started looking around nervously then said they were expected at the tavern and that’s the only information he could give for now.

He tried to push back all questions until they get to the tavern. No use speculating at this point. The veil was getting thinner and thinner further along the Redcliffe, almost like Frostback Mountains. The village was filled with mage refugees, few even recognized him. The elf led them to the tavern then ushered back to his friend.

Grand-Enchanter, sorry, _former_ Grand-Enchanter, her second in command and few other mages were waiting for them inside

“Welcome, Agents of the Inquisition.” she greeted.

“Grand-Enchanter Fiona.” he nod.

“Lieutenant Trevelyan,” she said confused “what has brought you to Redcliffe?”

“What is going on, Fiona?” he rushed “You asked me to come, so I did.”

“You must be mistaken. I haven’t send out any orders since before the Conclave.”

“I am _not_ mistaken.” he insisted, this was becoming very irritating.

“I… I don’t know. Now that I see you, I feel strange…” she dazed off. She looked so confused that Robin almost felt sad for her. All this fighting might’ve taken it’s toll. “Whoever… or whatever has brought you here, the situation has changed… The free mages have already… pledged themselves in the service of the Tevinter Imperium.”

“The-- The Tevinter-- _What?_ ” Robin gaped. His head barely registered grand enchanter’s words… “This right here is why you can’t trust mages.” Bull muttered.

“No- _-No!_ Fiona we talked about this! _This_ is exactly what we decided _not_ to do! Do you want the entire Thedas at our throats?” he growled.

She averted her eyes in embarrassment as she spoke “As one indentured to a magister, I no longer have the authority to negotiate with you.”

“Where’s this magister.” Robin rubbed his forehead.

“Welcome, my friends!” the person in question walked in rather cheerfully. It was indeed a magister, with spiky robes and all that getup, accompanied by a younger man, wearing same robes but not quite filling them. He looked less than pleased to be here. “I apologise for not greeting you earlier.” magister continued.

“Lieutenant Trevelyan, allow me to introduce Magister Gereon Alexius.” Fiona announced rather formally.

“The southern mages are under my command. And you are the survivor, yes? The one from the fade? Interesting…” He rubbed his chin.

“Do you know what’s even more ‘interesting’? How you took command of my southern brethren.” Robin grunted, keeping his eyes on grand enchanter.

“When the Conclave was destroyed, these poor souls faced the brutality of the templars, who rushed to attack them. It could only be through divine providence that I arrived when I did.” Magister explained. Robin, however, was not buying it just one bit. And the irritated tone of Fiona’s voice only added to his suspicions, “It was certainly… very timely.”

“I only regret that we weren’t fast enough to help northern mages.” He sighed with an exaggerated sympathy.

“It is a shame I was not _indentured_ as well. Is that what they’re calling slavery now?”

“By law, as they were not born citizens of Tevinter, they must work for a period of ten years before gaining full rights. As their protector, I shall oversee their work for the Imperium” Magister explained

“So, ‘temporary’ slavery, then?” he chucked humourlessly.

Oh, good. The magister was getting impatient. “Yes.” he answered simply.

“And pray tell what you intend to do with your new property.”

“For the moment, the southern mages are a considerable expense. After they are properly trained, they will join our Legion.”

“You said not all my people would be military!” grand enchanter cried “There are children, those not suited--”

“And one day, I’m sure they will all be productive citizens of the Imperium. When their debts are paid.”

This entire situation was a headache. Robin was trying hard to refrain from thinking as anything but the representatives of the Inquisition. If he had been here now, as his free mage identity he would’ve been a slave. He would even have agreed to it. Grand-Enchanter Fiona was a political tactician, as a military one, Robin could seldom see her objectives.

“Let’s negotiate.” he said and let Magister lead him to a table. He send off his son, called Felix, to fetch drinks.

The magister was stalling, it was a sound tactic, albeit an obvious one. He most likely didn’t want to negotiate, Robin couldn’t even understand why he agreed to this meeting.

Hence the hurried leave he took after his son fell on Robin. Leaving on his hand a scrap of paper.

“Come to the Chantry. You are in danger.” the note said.

“No shit.” he scrapped the paper and watched it turn into ash on his hands. It was sort of like a therapy for him, to burn little pieces of discardable things instead of the entire fucking village! There were a repeating series of ‘Fuck’ running through his mind when he was interrupted by a tranquil “Magister Alexius wishes only mages to remain in Redcliffe. He will approve of you. He does not approve of me. Many villagers have already escaped his ire.” he spoke in a monotone tone. They bantered a bit about the village’s history. It was a bitter story, what one abomination did to the entire village. It was a beaming example of the dangers of magic, which was rubbed to their noses like any other catastrophe. Now he feared theirs would add to that pile. If his brothers and sisters actually went through with the magister’s schemes, Maker knew the horror the next generation of mages would face in Thedas. If they would be allowed to exist at all. The brutality of the oppression could be unfathomable.

He recognized a woman from Ostwick eyeing him, they had never interacted before, he didn’t really know her. But she was a link and he desperately hoped she would have some explanations… “I remember you. You were a few years ahead of me in the Ostwick Circle.” she said bitterly.

“Really come up in the world, right? From a brute scaping at the prison walls to the lieutenant of northern mage movement. And now marked by Andraste, following templars about. Everyone knew you were their bitch.” she sneered.

It had been a while since anyone called him that. It used to infuriate him. But since then he had realized he did not had to feel shame for things he had no control over. Nasreen taught him that. She took him under her wings and made him into a soldier.

“Yes, yes. I’m a disgrace. They should tie me up and spank me.” he said, behind him Bull snort and said he’d pay to see that. “But, really, _Tevinter?_ ” he continued -after grinning idiotically to the qunari-

“Don’t tell me you bought the Chantry’s lies about how evil Tevinter is. It’s just because it’s ruled by mages.” she said smugly.

“Or maybe…” he retorted “it’s because they summon demons and practice human sacrifice?”

She pursued eagerly “The Chantry says whatever they think will scare us. No one wants us to look at them and say, “Their mages are free, and the world hasn’t ended. What’s wrong with blood magic?”

“What’s wrong with blood magic? You know what, I can’t even argue. Go, lick their asses, you’d fit right in.” Robin snapped. He couldn’t contemplate how stupid the woman was being.

“Don’t presume to know me!” she spat.

“Indulge me.”

“Linnea. I’m not surprised you don’t remember me. You were the most powerful apprentice, and I barely passed my harrowing. You were the one who the First-Enchanter choose to have as her lieutenant, even after what you did. And I was the one she left there.”

“I crawled out of that Circle just like everyone else. What I have accomplished thereon, I did by myself.”

“Preach your propaganda. You’ll see the magister is not so easily swayed.”

He promised, “I will do everything in my power to stop this from happening, Linnea. I have lost far too much to let another power enslave us now.” and left.

He run into another acquaintance before leaving the tavern. Talwyn. Thankfully, he shared Robin’s ideas on the issue about the magister, if not the freedom. He was an old man. Old and tired. He didn’t want war, he wanted his silken sheets and feather cushions. He wanted to live his remaining days in peace. Robin could sympathize.

When they finally got to the Chantry, he was half expecting it to be another trap, but it turns out it was just another time-bending weird ass rift and an eye candy. The man was a bit too flashy with that staff, not that Robin minded. It was… entertaining to watch.

“Good! You’re finally here! Now help me close this, would you?” he said.

The time bending glyphs were a bitch to work around but the demons proved little challenge.

“Fascinating!” the man run up to him when he closed the rift. “How does that work, exactly?” he asked.

A shrug was Robin’s only answer.

“You don’t even know, do you? You just wiggle your fingers, and boom! Rift closes. Ah. Getting ahead of myself again, I see. Dorian of House Pavus, most recently of Minrathous. How do you do?” he went on casually.

“Watch yourself.” Bull sneered “Pretty ones are always the worst.”

“I know, right? Dashing mages and their evil schemes...” Robin tskd.

“I’m onto you too, just so you know.” Bull said.

“Not yet,” Robin smirked “but hopefully soon.”

Behind them Sera and Varric snickered like ten year olds.

“Amusing friends you have here.” Dorian stepped in to explain his connection to the magister. According to what he said; he was once Dorian’s mentor. The magic the rifts used was created by Alexius, allowing him to travel through time. Dorian had opposed. The magister had joined a cult called Venatori, which sounded evil no matter how you say it. Long story short, both he and Felix wanted Alexius to stop. Robin was the key. Apparently the magister was obsessed with him for some reason.

“I’ll be in touch.” Dorian said before leaving.

This was not good. This was very much not good. The situation was more dire that he thought. This had to be stopped. People at Haven had to be informed as soon as possible and gather any force they could get their hands on. The fate of the mages, everything he stood for was hanging by a tread.

On the way, he traded a few words with the locals looking for help, a ‘chantry sister’ who had actually been a smuggler-who he blackmailed into helping them- and the young elf who had greeted them at the gates earlier that day. Lysas was his name. He was a fan. He knew damn near everything about him. “Were you really looking to _ally_ with us.” he asked doubtfully.

“Of course. My loyalty is to my kin.” he told the boy. And he meant it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, kudos and comments are welcome!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahaha idk wtf im doing haha
> 
> it'll get worse before it gets better

“We don’t have the manpower to take the castle!” Commander opposed “Either we find another way in, or give up this nonsense and go get the templars!”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” Robin snarled.

“Can you just-- _try_ to think rationally just for one second!” he snapped “Mage rebellion is in ruins, we can’t risk our entire attack force for something that ultimately may or may not be salvageable.”

“Don’t test me, Commander. I won’t abandon my people and I won’t hesitate to _eradicate_ anyone that comes in my way.”

“Are you going to kill me, then? Kill anyone who opposes you? Is that what you’re saying? I have never treated you as such but you sound _exactly_ like your brethren running amok slaughtering innocents!”

“Oh, low blow! Should I be offended and back down?” he scoffed  “No, Commander, I don’t slaughter innocents. I slaughter _templars_. I freeze them where they stand, so they can watch hopelessly as I set their comrades ablaze, wondering if they’ll be next… and just when they think it’s over, I summon the storm.” he chuckled dryly, “Do you know what happens to frozen things when they’re electrocuted, Commander? They explode, they burst into thousands of tiny pieces… it’s a bloody mess. Send me to the templars and you will get to see it first-hand.”

He should’ve marveled at the sight of Commander’s frightened expression, but he didn’t. He didn’t feel that satisfaction of silencing a templar when Cullen took a step back and gasped in horror.

Cassandra slammed the table “The fact remains that Redcliffe is in the hands of a magister. This cannot be allowed to stand.”

“The letter from Alexius asked for the Herald of Andraste by name. It’s an obvious trap.” Josephine said.

Leliana sighed “A Tevinter magister controls Redcliffe, invites us to the castle to talk, and some of us want to do nothing.”

“Redcliffe Castle is one of the most defensible fortresses in Ferelden. It has repelled thousands of assaults.” Commander streamed to grab Robin’s shoulders as he spoke, keeping his gaze fixed on mage’s “If you go in there, you’ll die. The mages you swore to protect will lose the only chance they have at salvation. And we’ll lose the only means we have closing these rifts. I _won’t_ allow it.”

Robin found himself at loss of words. It was alarming to have a templar so close, he felt like pushing him away but something stood his hand. Maybe it’s what he said to the man earlier, or maybe it was the determination in his eyes. He gulped and pierced his eyes away from Commander’s to gather a little ground. Fear crept into his mind. It would take the man less that a second to smite him, cleanse any magic he would throw in his defense and cripple him right there. He would be brought to knee in just a second. He could already feel the lyrium tingling right where his palms connected with Robin’s shoulders. Robin was a mage, a powerful one, he could bend the forces of nature to his will… but for all his bravado, he was still a coward.

“And if we don’t even try to meet Alexius, we lose the mages anyways and leave a hostile foreign power on our doorstep!” Leliana responded.

Thank the Maker Commander finally let him go…

“Even if we could assault the keep, it would be for naught. An “Orlesian” Inquisition’s army marching into Ferelden would provoke a war. Our hands are tied.” Josephine said.

“The magister--” Cassandra shouted...

“Has outplayed us.” finished Cullen .

“No,” Robin shook his head, “these nations bear tension for Maker knows how long, if they haven’t went to war already, they must be unprepared for it. We don’t have to assault the castle from outside. We just need to get a handful of people in. Anything would do; a sewer? A watercourse? Something?”

“There’s nothing I know of that would work.” Cullen breathed.

“There’s a secret passage into the castle,” Leliana said “an escape route for the family.”

“It’s too narrow for our troops, but we could send agents through.” she explained.

Cullen considered it for a second, “Too risky. Those agents will be discovered well before they reach the magister.”

“Have some faith, Commander,” Robin grinned “Alexius wants to play, right? Why not give him the toy he wants so badly.”

“A distraction…” Leliana thought “you.”

“Keep attention on Trevelyan while we disable the magister’s defenses. It’s a gamble, but it might work.” The commanded finally agreed.

The door flew open; “Fortunately, you’ll have help.” Dorian crashed the meeting, followed by a scout chasing him “This man says he has information about the magister and his methods, Commander.” he hurried to explain.

Robin exchanged a glance with the mage, a little relieved to see him here.

“Your spies will never get past Alexius’s magic without my help.” he said to the Commander, “So if you’re going after him, I’m coming along.”

Cullen sighed and turned to Robin, looking already defeated “The plan puts you in the most danger. We can’t, in good conscience, order you to do this. We can still go after the temp--” he cut short “Just remember we have another option if you rather not play the bait. It’s up to you.”

They agreed to leave at nightfall to arrive there at dawn. Which left them with ten hours or so to prepare. When the meeting disbanded, Cullen hurried outside conveniently avoiding Robin.

He was having a growing dislike for this thing called empathy. So he threatened an accomplice, so maybe he hurt his little templar feelings or something, he didn’t give a fuck. He was so fucking tired of arguing with templars.

He heard the Ambassador calling to him from her desk, the woman always seemed too formal for casual banter “Ah, Lord Trevelyan. May I have a moment?”

“Yes, Ambassador?” Robin obliged.

“I’d like to discuss your parents.” well, that was rather uncalled for…

“Why?”

“As people have noted your station, it would be helpful to call on the resources of your noble kinsmen. What are your thoughts?” she asked “Should we approach your family for their formal support of the Inquisition.”

Robin couldn’t hold back a bitter laugh, “With the Trevelyans, my presence may close more doors than it opens.” he explained “My family... prefer not to have magic taint in their bloodline, to say the least.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I shall not press the matter, but others will. Val Royeaux has noted your lineage. It gives the Inquisition some legitimacy, although with your past, not so much as we’d hoped.”

“I assume you mean my past with the rebellion.”

“That and you _are_ from Ostwick. Orlesian nobles consider the Free Marches somewhat… quaint.”

“So a mage is okay but they draw the line at Marchers?”

“Ignoring your personal involvement in war, you’re not an unfamiliar sight. Mages from noble families are given more leeway. Besides,” she added “Ostwick’s Circle had a reputation for being rather sedate.”

“Oh, yes. I have experienced the sedation first-hand. Especially the solitary confinement, all the quiet and calm in the world.”

“I’m sorry. I heard the templars were… kinder there.”

Robin wouldn’t normally talk about this but the Ambassador seemed sincere. And he wanted at least someone alive to know that he had not always been this way. He had been young and bold, he had enjoyed his time there. It had been the only home he knew.

“I suppose they were… They weren’t hostile. Most avoided direct conversation but some would tell us stories of the life outside the walls, brought trinkets from local festivals even.”

“Really? Wasn’t it forbidden?”

“It was the Circle, damn near everything was forbidden. But most things were overlooked.”

“From your attitude… I assumed they were harsh with their treatment towards you.”

“We were not always in open warfare, you know. I lived with them, I was even completely infatuated with one of the templars in our tower.”

“No!”  she gasped high pitched in surprise “What came of it?”

“Nothing I should speak of in the company of a kind-hearted lady such as yourself.”

“My apologies, my Lord. I shouldn’t have pried.”

She rushed to change the subject; and chattered idly about the living conditions. Robin was quite comfortable so long as he had a roof over his head but he listened her complaints nevertheless. It was understandable she was not accustomed to these standards.

She also mentioned she had attended Lady Trevelyan’s summer balls. He himself only went to a couple of them, per Knight-Commander’s command. Knight-Commander had insisted they keep noble ties intact. He had received several proposals from lesser houses and invitations to various noble mambo jambo.

Ambassador was happy to share her past with him. She explained everything in great detail patiently. For a noble, she wasn’t so bad.

Not long after he excused himself to prepare for the upcoming assault, he found himself walking down the battlement to Cullen’s direction. Yes, empathy was a bitch.

Commander either ignored him or didn’t greet him at his arrival. He probably deserved that.

“Commander.”

“I must prepare for the assault, if you’ll excuse me.”

“No, you must rest. It’s going to be a long day.”

“I do my duty.”

“Commander-- Cullen, I…” the words weighed heavy on his mouth, he promised to be less of an ass… he didn’t know what to apologize for. Breaking the truce? Or insulting his fellow templars? Threatening him personally?

“I almost forgot what you were.” Cullen whispered coarsely, “Thank you for reminding me.”

Commander was… He was being unreasonable. _But he wasn’t_ , a voice in his head whispered. _You had almost forgotten too_ , it said to him. _You are a murderer, thousands upon thousands fell to your magic and you enjoyed every second of it._

Nightfall came too soon. Leaving Robin with barely enough sleep for the voyage and as the assault came close, he felt his courage slowly fading. Commander could be right, this could be a suicide mission.

He didn’t fear death before, and he wasn’t fearing it now. It was something else eating up his mind, Alexius wanted him. _Him._ If death was his objective, he could’ve struck at him at the tavern, the attack would taken him by surprise and they would’ve been vastly outnumbered. No, he wanted him captured, or intact. And that scared him more than anything else.

By the time they arrived at castle, his façade was back in place. “Announce us.” he ordered to the man eyeing his companions suspiciously.

“The magisters invitation was for master Trevelyan only. These others will have to remain here.”

“Where I go, they go.” he stood ground and the man gave in, unwillingly.

He led them to the throne room, “My lord magister, the agents of the Inquisition have arrived.”

“My friend! It’s so good to see you again. And your associates, of course” Alexius said gesturing them. “I’m sure we can work out some arrangement that is equitable to all parties.”

“Are we mages to have no voice in deciding our fate?” Fiona demanded.

“Fiona, you would not have turned your followers over to my care if you did not trust me with their lives.”

“If the Grand-Enchanter wants to be part of these talks, then I welcome her as a guest of the Inquisition.” Robin declared

It was more than she deserved, he knew. Nasreen had respected this woman and she was still his superior… or have been. He wasn’t with the rebellion any longer, he reminded himself again.

“Thank you.” she said.

“The Inquisition needs mages to close the Breach, and I have them. So, what shall you offer in exchange?”

“Oh, nothing. I’ll just grab the mages and go.” Robin shrug.

“And how do you imagine you’ll accomplish such a feat?”

“He knows everything, Father.” Felix broke the deception, hopefully not too early. “Felix, what have you done?” the magisters tone took a serious edge.

“Can you blame him? I’d be concerned too if I had you as a father.”

“So speaks the thief. Do you think you can turn my son against me?” he got up “You walk into my stronghold with your stolen mark--a gift you don’t even understand-- and think you’re in control? You are nothing but a mistake.” he stressed each word.

“You’d be surprised how often I hear that. So what’re you gonna do? Erase me?”

“You underestimate the Elder One’s power.”

“Father, listen to yourself! Do you know what you sound like?” Felix plead.

“He sounds exactly like the the sort of villainous cliché everyone expects us to be.” Dorian barged in. This man had got to have some kind of award for dramatic entrances.

“Dorian.” Alexius snarled. “I gave you a chance to be part of this. You turned me down. The Elder One has power you would not believe. He will raise the Imperium from its own ashes.”

“If you were going to elect a crazy cult leader, you should’ve gone with someone younger.”

“Joke if you will. Soon he will become a god. He will make the world bow to mages once more. We will rule from the Boeric Ocean to the Frozen Seas”

“You can’t involve my people in this!” Fiona shouted desperately. Dorian stepped in, “Alexius, this is exactly what you and I talked about _never_ wanting to happen! Why would you support this?”

Alexius was losing ground “Stop it, Father. Give up the Venatori. Let the southern mages fight the breach, and let’s go home.” Felix insisted.

But his insensitive was coming to light “No! It’s the only way, Felix. He can save you!”

Robin wondered how far his own father would go to safe his life, admittedly, being the only mage among seven siblings made his chances pretty low.

“Save me?” Felix asked.

“There _is_ a way. The Elder One promised. If I undo the mistake at the temple…”

“I’m going to die. You need to accept that.”

“Seize them, Venatori!” Alexius ordered “The Elder One demands this man’s life!”

His command run hollow with Venatori falling one by one at the hands of Inquisition soldiers. Leliana’s men were as skilled as she claimed, guards stood no chance when lookouts were stealthily eliminated and the bulk of the attack force arrived under Cullen’s command.

Both of them arrived with their men, surrounding the magister. “Your men are dead, Alexius.” Robin said.

“You... are a mistake!” he repeated, reaching for his robes, he pulled out an amulet oozing with foreign magic “You should never have existed!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are always welcome!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well at least they're talking now...

Whatever magic Dorian casted was not fast enough to overpower amulet’s own, the spell blasted everyone to the ground. It was a silent explosion sucking itself in, a great black hole, choked everything dark.

At the break of a moment all the commotion was silenced. The air turned humid, heavy. Robin’s cheek pressing on a cold stone felt...wet? Scent of damp filled his lungs. He struggled to gain footing but slipped further in the water… wait-- Water?!

He opened his eyes in a cell. Again. His body seemed intact. Gear in place. It was a little hard to gain an accurate footing knee deep in water but he’d manage.

“Blood of the Elder One!” Two armed guard ran in, wearing Imperium helmets. “Where’d they come from?” the other one asked. Before Robin had any chance to ask questions of his own, they were running to him with swords. He blocked the first swing with his staff but wasn’t fast enough to dodge other guys hit. Just when he raised his free arm to protect his face, a fireball flashed and burned the man down. Taken aback by the attack, the other lost his footing, allowing a clear opening for Robin to slit open his throat.

“Displacement? Interesting!” of course the source of the convenient fireball was none other than the flashy Tevinter mage. “It’s probably not what Alexius intended. The rift must’ve moved us… to what? The closest confluence of arcane energy?” he rambled on. Meanwhile Robin would like nothing more than to get out of this Maker forsaken place, wherever it was.

“They must’ve taken us from the castle hall.” Robin speculated. Testing the bars of the prison door.

“Let’s see. If we’re still in the castle, it isn’t… Oh! Of course! It’s not simply where--it’s when!”

The steel was rusty but sturdy, probably etched with some kind of enchantment. “Alexius used the amulet as a focus. It moved us through time!”

“Great, how do we get back?” he asked. He slowly worked on the bonds of his gauntlet. He sild his hand out, placed it on the lock and checked it’s strength

“That is an _excellent_ question. We’ll have to find out, won’t we?” Dorian said “Let’s look around, see if we can find a key. Then we can figure out how to get back… if we can.”

Robin summoned a little fire, just enough to give heat, burning on his palm and grasped the lock. It gave away easily, melting down. “Then let’s go.” he said, walking out what’s left of the poor door.

“A useful trick.” Dorian said as Robin fastened the gauntlet back on “I’m all full of ‘em.”

They walked down the corridor of what seemed to be a dungeon. The red lyrium they had seen back in the Frostback Mountain was everywhere. It was growing out the walls, ceiling… And it’s energy was bizarre… Whilst the regular lyrium reacted to magic instinctively, these evil counterparts were almost attacking it.

“Alexius has made a dreadful mess of this place, hasn’t he?” Dorian sighed.

Robin looked around for a way to get through the lyrium but he didn’t want to use his magic on the stuff. Maker knew what it would cause. It was a dead end. “I didn’t see this part of the castle.” he casually bantered.

“It was covered in the tackiest carvings of wolves and dogs I’d ever seen. This is not an improvement.”

“That’s Ferelden for you.”

They followed the route to the opposite way. Every corridor looked the same. But that was the deal with the dungeons. In the upper cells Robin’s eyes caught the only prisoner they came across so far. He remembered the elf. Lysas. He was completely delirious, repeating “Andraste blessed me, Andraste blessed me... My tears are my sins, my sins, my sins...”

Robin’s mouth went dry as he watched what became of that excited young boy tripping on his words to talk with him. Torture. Exposed to it for so long that he lost his mind. But for what purpose? What information did they assume this boy had? And why did they left him alive, or forgotten about him in this deserted prison.

He reached to his belt for his knife and slit the boy’s throat, nice and clean. Closed his eyes and laid him to rest. Dorian’s surprise was understandable but time was short and Robin had no will to explain his every action.

Their way lead to a hallway with a door in each wall. The one in the front’s bridge was up, leaving them with only two options. Robin was a left person, so he lead them to the left.

Bull was held in the second cell on the left, singing a song to himself.

“Three hundred bottles of beer on a wall, three hundred bottles of beer--”

“Take one down, pass it around.” Robin finished. At the sound of his voice Bull jolted “You’re not dead? You’re supposed to be dead. There was a burn on the ground and everything.”

“Yes, yes. Alexius fucked up the spell, zapped us into the future. I’m sure he’s very broken up about it.”

“Well, it’s _my_ present. And in my _past_ , I definitely saw you both die.”

“Andraste’s tits! You’re right!” Robin jumped “I’m not alive at all! Now can we dispense with chatter and kill the fucker?”

“Why? You want to see what other tricks he’s learned” Bull grunted.

“If we find him, we might be able to get back to our own time and stop all this before it happens. Exciting, yes?” Dorian said.

“Alexius isn’t the one you need to worry about, it’s his ‘Elder One. He killed the Empress of Orlais, and used the confusion to launch an invasion of the South” he said bitterly “The army was all demons. You ever fought a demon army? I don’t recommend it.”

“I have,” Robin replied “and you won’t. I’ll show the staff so deep up Alexius’ ass that he’ll be casting spells with a toothpick for at least a century.”

“Glad to have you back.” Bull smiled.

They found Varric in the first cell to the right, humming to himself. “Andraste’s sacred knickers. You’re alive? Where were you? How did you escape?”

“Let’s see: Yes. Down the hall. Melted a lock.”

“We didn’t escape. Alexius sent us into the future.” Dorian corrected. Joykill.

“Everything that happens to you is weird.” Varric shook his head. Truer word have never been spoken. “So what are you doing here? Or did you come back just to trade quips with me?”

Dorian explained his plan. Nobody understood. Varric informed them on the latest news front. Then geared up to help them.

Robin kept an eye out for any of his other companions but all cells they walked through were empty.

They headed down to the southern path. In the last cell, almost completely overrun with red lyrium, a woman’s figure was barely visible.

“You’re… Alive? How? I saw you… disappear… into the rift.” she barely made out.

“Grand-Enchanter? Fiona? What happened to you? Is that red lyrium growing out on your body?”

“It’s a disease… The longer you’re near it… eventually... you become this. Then they mine your corpse for more.”

“Can you tell us the date? It’s very important.” Dorian rushed.

“Harvestmere… 9:42 Dragon.”

“Nine forty- _two_? Then we’ve missed an entire year.”

“I’m here now. I’ll send them all back to Tevinter in coffins.” Robin snarled

“Not Tevinter… Alexius… serves the Elder One. More powerful… than the Maker… no one… challenges him and lives.”

“I’ll try anyways.”

“Robin… You took Ostwick, Markham… Hercinia… You can undo this…”

“Our only hope is to find the amulet that Alexius used to send us here. If it still exists, I can use it to reopen the rift at the exact spot we left. Maybe.” said Dorian.

“Good.” grand enchanter breathed.

“I said _maybe._ It might also turn us into paste.”

“You _must_ try. Your spymaster and commander… They are here. Leliana… she can help. Find her. You have your orders… Lieutenant…” Fiona closed her eyes and bore her throat.

“Sir. Yes, sir.” Robin said before cutting her down.

They returned where they came to see drawbridge lowered, crawling with Venatori. All they had to do was to throw them down, they fell like ants. Well… it took a little skill too.

The familiar sound of weeping, and the smell of blood, sweat, urine and deathroot welcomed them. _Ahh… torture chambers._

Most rooms were unoccupied. In one, they weren’t fast enough to save the woman. They saw some templar bodies, infested with red lyrium, but none bore the Commander’s face.

Down the hall he could make out his name being mentioned, a sound of a whip cracking… Leliana’s voice! He barged in, “You will break.” the torturer said, pressing his knife to Leliana’s throat.

“I will _die_ first!” At the party’s arrival, she used the distraction to wrap her legs around the Venatori’s neck and snapped it.

Robin ran to get the keys from the corpse and free the woman. He didn’t know how she could still stand, he didn’t want to… Her skin was peeling off, teeth long gone… She wasn’t interested in ‘how’s or ‘why’s. Robin helped her to a weapon and gear while Dorian explained their plan. “And mages always wonder why people fear them…” she hissed “No one should have this power.”

“It’s dangerous and unpredictable. Before the Breach, nothing we did--”

“Enough! This is all pretend to you, some future you hope will never exist.” she snarled “I suffered. The whole world suffered. It was real.”

“We’ll make it right. But first we must find the Commander.” Robin said.

“Leave him. He will be of no use to you.” Leliana opposed.

“What’s that suppose to mean?” Robin dashed out the chamber to the next one. It was the last one left. Culled got to be there.

Bull placed a gentle hand on Robin’s shoulder “Boss… templars… they took the worst of it.”

“All the more reason to find him. Even if he is ‘of no use to me’, we owe him an honorable death.”

He shrug off Bull’s hand and reached for the doorknob. No one tried to stop him this time.

Room wasn’t locked. The stench of rot was more intense inside. Scattered around were dozens of corpses consumed by lyrium. Some templars, some civilians, children… It thrummed with corrupt magic so fiercely that Robin could feel it tickling on his fingertips. He clenched his fists to gather just enough magic to resist lyrium’s aggression.

That’s when he made out the figure hunched over the pile. It looked like the red lyrium but shaped like an animal. Could lyrium be sentient? Whatever it was, It was eating the lyrium. The creatures growled in displeasure at having his meal disrupted. At first it crawled away from Robin’s magic, then he slowly rose. It bore… the features of a man he once knew as the Commander. Red lyrium ripped out of his flesh, his eyes…

“Cullen..?”

Sound of his name made it… him… shudder. He looked up to meet the mage’s eyes, clearly out of focus. He didn’t look alive.

In a split second, he sprung himself on Robin with a force that knocked them both to the other side of the room. The throb on his head made him momentarily woozy, he barely registered Commander’s hands locked on his throat. “Now, I know… we didn’t part… in best… of terms…” he tried to kick the man off, to no avail “but… I...think… you are… over...reacting….”

“You… are... dead.” Commander hissed, tightening his hold.

Robin squirmed and gaped for air. He grappled and scratched the man but his flesh was hard like stone.

He managed to summon enough power for a mind blast that knocked them both the opposite sides of the room, Commander hit the wall and fell face first to the ground with an animal like grunt. Robin struggled to get on his feet and held his hand to stop his companions from interfering.

“I am not dead.” he took a lurching step towards the man with each word.  “No...no, no, no, no…” he started babbling, burying his face in his palms. “...Cullen…” he tried again. “No!” he yelled. Robin immediately ducked the blow then slid around him to clutch his arm behind. The man tried to push him back down, if he weren’t unbalanced, he would have, but instead he lost his footing and fell on his knees “Fuck, Cullen! Snap out of it!” he froze the man’s legs to the ground.

Then he felt the sluggish feeling of smite. Shit. Commander sprang up from where he was bound. Robin blocked the punch instinctively but lyrium on his fist tore the skin where it connected. Blood sprayed on his face, blurring his vision. This was all levels of fucked up. He knew a little hand to hand combat, he had fought smitten before but hell, it wasn’t with a super powered crazed warrior. The man’s flesh was lyrium, every hit landed on it only scabbed Robin’s knuckles.

“Alexius sent us into the future,” he tried to explain breathily while dodging “I didn’t die.”

His magic was slowly coming back. If only he could dally a little longer. His only advantage was the Commander being sloppy. The man slammed him to the wall, released a swing that’d smash Robin’s face in.

But it came too late. Robin filled his body with mana and phased through the man and his grasp… Think, think, think… he forced himself. Red lyrium clouded Cullen’s mind, right? Like a debuff, or a confusion spell… The Commander had reacted to the first magic he leaked out to withstand corrupt lyrium’s… _Dispel._

Commander fell to his knees. The room fell silent, the parts of a broken crate creaked as they fall to ground, two men’s heavy panting echoed through the walls.

“Kill me…” the man writhed, clutching Robin’s boots, “Kill me!”

“Shit, no!” Robin kneeled in front of him “Well, I was… But you’re okay now. See?”

Cullen looked up wearily. The usual blue line of lyrium circling a templars eye was completely reddened and covered iris entirely, leaking out to the whites. “I am… don’t make me live like this.”

“I won’t. Look, Dorian says if we can get to the throne room, he can reverse the spell. None of this will happen. How’s that sound?” Robin cupped the man’s neck.

“Fucking… awesome.” he huffed.

“What’s this, Cullen? What have they done to you?”

“Lyrium…” he spat at the word “First I tried to resist… but the craving… I couldn’t. They feed it to you… until it takes over.”

“You consume this stuff? Okay, I don’t know about your templar addiction but it is only cool when we mages do it.”

“You haven’t changed a bit,” he huffed “still going on about ‘we mages’ and ‘you templars’”

“In my defense, for me it has only been a few hours. Not much of a time to give up my ideals.”

“You were right… You don’t... go easy on templars.”

“Heh. So what about it big boy, feel like roughening up some mages?”

“Right behind you.”


	9. Chapter 9

_ With the smell of embers and burning flesh filling his lungs, adrenaline pumping his veins, numbing the senses, everything happens so... slowly. Tiniest piece of ash lands on his cheek for just a second, slowly falling down to his jaw, mixing with a drop of sweat. He looks down at the hand grasping at his leg. _

_ A man.. A boy, at his twenties tops. Most likely joined the order to bring bread to the table. Lost in whats remaining of a heavy armor few sizes too big for him. Struggling to speak without throwing his guts out… “Please…” he says. _

_ He repeats. He repeats that word until the arm wrapped around his waist holding his intestines where they belong gives in just a little and he hisses in pain. His other hand grips the cloth ever so tightly before falling down to the pool of blood forming on the ground. _

_ So concealed is his face with blood and mud burned to his skin that it's impossible to identify this corpse of a man. Robin looks at him, looks into his eyes wet with tears. No hate, no ideals, no patriotism left in them. Only pure, unadulterated fear. Fear of death, fear of the unknown. _

_ “...I have a family…” he manages “...P...lease...” _

_ He’s struck by his own reflection, in that young man’s eyes, looking back at him. The most disgusting face he’s ever seen. A predator engulfed by the high of the hunt. Sharpening his claws, saliva dripping from his chin, just ready for that final move to rip open his prey's throat. _

_ He stares at himself and the young man's fear creeps up on him, suddenly he feels as if he’s that prey. _

_ He strikes at him. He man falls deeper to the pool of his own blood. He strikes again, at his face, and again, and again, until nothing but a carcass of flesh  _ _ and bones left on the ground. _

_ He looses his footing staggers a few steps back and feels the time comes back to its own pace. Screams, cries, sparks, ashes… A woman shouts his name, maybe she’s been shouting all this time, he can’t tell… he looks around, everything's spinning too fast and he can’t stop shaking, maybe he’s spinning. He hears it again, his name. _

_ His eyes find the woman in the crowd, top of the stairs. “Trevelyan!” she shouts pointing with her staff at something in his general direction “The drawbridge!” _

 

Robin let his eyes falter at the back of red lyrium covered armour leading them to the magister’s throne room. Every uneven step the Commander took sending series of cracking noises through his skin.  _ A man. _ Robin thought.  _ That’s all we are. _ Covered in red lyrium or mutilated by demonic possession, what was the difference. What had changed that, now, looking at a man agonized to every ounce of his being just from the effort of standing straight he saw what he couldn’t looking down at a boy begging for his life.

The chamber door was locked, magically, of course. A quick end to this nightmare would be to much to ask for. They decided to split up, Leliana did, to be more precise. She and Cullen knew the castle better than Varric and Bull who had the privilege of just getting locked up and key thrown away. No one wanted to go with the crazed commander, although not everyone was as direct about it as Dorian. So the duty of searching the southern part of the castle fell to Robin.

He followed the commander silently. Not much banter to be had. He was not as much of a swordsman as a wild animal when it came to fighting. Robin made no comments but clearly he was no master deceptor.

“You can say it, you know.” Commander said “I can’t raise a sword high enough to use it properly anymore” he added, gesturing at the unhealthily large grow at his shoulder.

“I’m not gonna judge, so long as you can kill shit.” Robin shrugged.

“Is that why I’m here then?” he asked.

Robin started searching bodies “What do you mean?”

“You could’ve killed me back there, I know you bear no sympathy for me--”

“You’re wrong.” Robin cut in instantly “Even if I killed you, that would be an act of sympathy but…” he scratched his head, a little embarrassed by how much he was letting out but this was an alternate universe so who gave a fuck “I don’t know. I owe you an apology and I… didn’t wanna leave things as we left off. That was a year ago for you though, now that I think about it you probably don’t even remember”

“<I almost forgot what you were, thank you for reminding me> were my last words to you.” he whispered. “And look at me, who’s the monster now?”

“I’ve seen monsters, I’ve fought them,” Robin kept his eyes on the corpse he was supposed to be searching for an amulet on “you’re not a monster.” he reached for the glowing red stone hanging from the body’s neck “we’re just men.”

Well, he thought as he stuffed the amulet in his pocket, that as as good a time as any to make amends “Cullen look, I’m sorry for being an ass, again, I was just… you know…”

“Scared?” Cullen asked, not leaving his gaze. Robin just gaped at him.

“I know templars make you uncomfortable, it doesn’t take a spymaster to deduce your expression when a templar gets too close or draws their weapon.” Cullen continued “I was surprised too, at first. I mean, look at you, a catastrophe waiting to happen. What could a man do that would genuinely scare you?” he chuckled “Apparently just touch you and you’d look as if you’ve seen all levels of void.”

Robin snorted, averting his eyes “I’m not afraid of your  _ big templar hands  _ or your  _ big templar swords” _ he tried to joke but he felt the tone of his voice betrayed him “I was just caught off guard, that’s all.”

Commander smiled, like they were back at the barracks again and he was being exceptionally awkward, but he didn’t press the topic.

 

The way back was clean, they met with the rest of the group and with a little help from Dorian’s secret tevinter hocus pocus the magic door unlocked. 

“That was almost too easy Alexius!” Robin let his voice echo through the hollow walls. What they’d seen so far was a paradise compared to the state they found Alexius in.

“And here you are, finally…”

“Just in time for the main course, how would you like your demise? Roasted or deep fried?”

“I know you’d appear again,” he shook his head “not that it would be now. But I know I hadn’t destroyed you. My final failure...”

“Was it worth it?” Dorian asked “Everything you did to the world?”

“It doesn’t matter now. All we can do is wait for the end.”

“It  _ does _ matter. I will clean up your mess.”

“How many times have I tried? The past cannot be undone. All that I fought for, all that I betrayed, and what have I wrought? Ruin and death. There is nothing else. The elder one comes: for me, for you, for us all.”

 

He was dallying but he didn’t think at chance at compromise was possible until Leliana provided them with a leverage. She went for the creature he paid no mind so far that was covering at Alexius’ feet. 

“Felix!” Alexius cried. Felix… Maker… why would anyone do that to their own son? And to live with it, live with that  _ thing _ you turned your son into… Robin almost felt sorry for the dude…

_ He would’ve died, Dorian. I saved him.  _ He said.  _ Saved. _ He would’ve made a good bargaining chip but no, no one deserved to live like that.

 

Burn this, electrify that, close the rift, rinse and repeat until you exhaust your opponent. Simple fight, fast. Simple, but not easy. 

Alexius leaned on his staff for the last time as it gave in under his weight. He tumbled and fell. The rock fist Robin sent to hit his balls smashed his face in. Poor guy wasn’t gonna come back from that.


End file.
